


Good For

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Drinking, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Mary really needs a drink.<br/>Disclaimer:  Never in a jillion years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good For

“Oh, god,” Mary sighed, dropping onto bench seat, folding her arms on the table and using them to pillow her head. “I did not deserve a day like today.” 

Marshall slid into the seat across from hers. “No one deserves a day like today.” 

She rolled an eye, peering at him through her hair, and pointed a finger in his general direction. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

Of course, he ignored her. “Two new witnesses, who really don’t want to be here in Albuquerque, one of whom is yet another witness with ties to the Russian mafia.”

Mary groaned and covered her ears. “La la la,” she sang, not wanting to think about the Russian mafia. 

“Then Stan’s bombshell,” Marshall added. 

That made her raise her head just enough to meet his eyes. They both made matching disgusted faces and Mary dropped her head back onto her arms. “I need a drink, Marshall,” she whined, “order me a drink.” 

“You need a drink,” he said. 

“That’s what I said, dummy. Order me a drink. Not some girly-froo-froo drink with an umbrella.” Her head popped up again, hair slithering away from her face and she fixed her best friend and partner with an evil stare. “A real drink. Something that’ll put hair on my chest.” 

Marshall’s eyebrow went up and his lip curled. “Ew,” he said, “and ew.” His face twisted. “Ew. Hairy-chested Mary.” 

“Oh, stop thinking about my fuzzy boobs, will ya, and get me a drink?” Sliding out of her seat, she pointed at him. “A manly drink. Nothing with pineapples or blue food coloring or extra sweet or with whipped cream.” 

Marshall lit up. “Whipped cream,” he said, almost beatific. 

Mary punched his arm, grinning when he whined. “No whipped cream, buddy, or I’ll pull your short hairs out with a tweezer.” 

“Your threats are wicked and cruel, but I will let you command me.” Marshall raised a finger. “This time.” 

Grabbing a handful of peanuts out of the bowl, Mary tossed them into her mouth, chomping on them with relish. “Get my drink. And I’ll command you any time I want.” She bumped her hip into his shoulder, sauntering off to the bathroom. Damn, booze really sounded good right now. And she knew it’d be waiting for her when she got back. Marshall, after all, was good for a lot of things. Procuring her alcohol was just one of them.


End file.
